


Nothing Like Life

by lesyeuxverts



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adultery, Anal Plug, D/s, M/M, Piercings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-03
Updated: 2013-11-03
Packaged: 2017-12-31 09:11:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1029901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesyeuxverts/pseuds/lesyeuxverts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some marks are made to be remembered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing Like Life

It was nothing that Harry would be able to hide from Ginny. He took a quick deep breath and held it – dizzy, he gripped Severus's forearm, his fingers pressing into old scars. "You would–"  
  
"Yes." Severus said nothing more. He looked down at Harry for a moment, his dark eyes unblinking, and then he turned away, pulling his arms out of Harry's grasp. He stood and pulled the sheet around himself, stalking over to the window and looking out of it, his back turned to Harry.   
  
It was a one-room bedsit, one of the safe-houses that Dumbledore had warded before his death. He'd left them for Severus – he'd trusted Severus, when Harry had not. It was something, though not enough to repay Severus's sacrifice.  
  
The window looked out onto a brick wall – there was nothing there for Severus to look at.   
  
Harry rose and went to him. The cold air stung his bare skin and he came close to Severus, slipping the sheet around the both of them.   
  
"You need not–"  
  
"I want to," Harry said, and that was that. It was solid between them. Severus was as stiff as the curve of his spine, but he turned back to Harry and tucked him into the curve of his arm.   
  
"She'll see it."  
  
"I'll feel it," Harry said, putting his fingers to Severus's throat and feeling the scars there. "I'll feel it, and every time I'm with her, I'll be with you."  
  
"Romantic drivel."   
  
"It's true." They stood there at the window, in the last of the weak sunlight, wrapped in each other's arms. Harry rested his head on Severus's chest and listened to the heart beating there. He was still dizzy.  
  
When it was dark, they lit six candles and put them around the edge of the room, where they cast their shadows inward. Severus made a cup of milky tea and shared it with Harry. Lip to porcelain, porcelain to lip, they kissed across the cup as they passed it back and forth.   
  
It felt like the end when Harry came to the bottom of the cup, swirling around the dregs before dumping them in the saucer. He was no fortuneteller – he made no attempt to read the future in the tea leaves. He went to Severus, instead, standing with him in the light and the shadows. They stood pressed together, body against body.  
  
Harry's lips were still warm from the tea, his fingers warm from holding the cup. He reached up to kiss Severus, trailing his hands over Severus's chest – fingertip to nipple, fingertip to navel, teasing and touching and promising.   
  
"Do it to me," he said. His breath was a puff of warmth in the cold. Harry stepped closer to Severus, walking him backwards until his knees hit the bed. "Do it to me."  
  
"So impatient." Severus stripped the sheet from Harry, leaving him to shiver for a second, and then pressed him back onto the bed. He ran his hands over Harry's body, touching him everywhere – arms and legs and arse and thighs and lips. Lips pressed to lips.   
  
Severus pulled back and held Harry down when he arched up for more. "So impatient," he said again. He stroked Harry's cock once, leaving him thrusting into thin air and wanting more.  
  
"If I had my wand, I'd conjure ropes and bind you to the bed," Severus said. "I'd make you mine."  
  
"I'm not thinking about her," Harry said. "Please–"  
  
Severus held him still, ghosting kisses over his skin until he shivered. "Please–"  
  
"Is it all about what you want, Potter?"  
  
The question hung between them until Harry shivered again. This was the man he had saved. This was the man who had sacrificed everything for him – life and loyalty and love. He had given up everything for Harry.   
  
"No," Harry said. "Please. Tell me."  
  
"Good." Snape drew back, sitting on his heels and looking down at Harry. He waited.  
  
Harry held himself still. He sucked in quick deep breaths of air and held them. He waited, and Snape finally kissed him. "Very good," he said, his voice as soft as silk. "On your hands and knees."  
  
Taking another deep breath, Harry turned over and obeyed. He kept his eyes closed, kept himself blind, and held himself ready for Snape.  
  
"You will not move. You will not touch yourself. You will not come until I tell you to do so."   
  
"Yes," Harry said. "Please–"  
  
"So impatient," Severus said. He shifted on the bed – Harry heard him stand. Wood scraped along the floor and then Severus stood in front of him, tilting his chin up and waiting until he opened his eyes.   
  
Severus stood in front of Harry, his cock rising thick and dark from its nest of curls. Harry licked his lips, and Severus stroked his cheek, touched the corner of his mouth. The Mark was dark on his forearm – dark in the shadows, pale in the light. Skin and scars and nothing more. "Later, perhaps," he said.   
  
Severus was haloed by a candle on the table he'd brought to the end of the bed. He stepped back and let Harry see the light, the pinprick of the candle flame in the darkness.   
  
Without Severus's hands on him, warming him – giving him reason after reason to come here, to come back here again – Harry shivered.   
  
The flame jumped and was twinned, sending twice the shadows flickering around the room. Harry felt dizzy, the world a hazy place around him, the air slow and sluggish in his lungs. He couldn't breathe.   
  
Severus passed the needle through the flame and held it there until it glowed red. Harry watched it, focusing on it and not the leaping shadows. The world wouldn't stay still. He needed to remember this.   
  
"Do you see this?" Snape asked. Harry nodded. The needle was the colour of Ginny's hair, flame-red, but Snape held it without flinching.  
  
"Good." Snape set the needle down on the table and stepped closer to Harry. He took the pillowcase and folded it into a thin strip, tying it as a blindfold around Harry's eyes. "Do you see it now?"  
  
Harry saw nothing – heard nothing – felt nothing. He shook his head, and Snape ran his hands over Harry's body, warming him. "You go home to her."  
  
Harry held his body still. He said nothing – it was true.  
  
"She checks your wand to see where you've been. She checks you for the smell of perfume, for the slightest hint of an affair."  
  
Severus's hand came down on Harry's flesh, striking one blow hard across his back. "You come back to me. Always."  
  
Harry heard the catch in his voice, the rasp of his over-worked throat. Each word hurt Severus – some days more than others.   
  
Severus prodded Harry until he shifted to lie on his back, his arms stretched over his head and his legs spread. "You come to me from her," Severus said, tracing patterns on Harry's skin – the outline of his ribs, the length of his breastbone, circles around his navel, and the tracery of veins in his thighs. Harry shifted his weight on the bed when Severus found the plug in his arse, twisting it and slipping it in and out.   
  
"You come from her, wearing this … does she know? Does she know that you leave her, ready for me?"   
  
Harry shook his head again, and trembled when Severus touched him with the hot needle, passing it over the patterns that his fingers had made. The heat died quickly, but then Severus turned the needle, letting the point of it prick Harry's skin here and there.   
  
Harry heard the clink of glass and the glug of liquid, and when Severus came back to him for a kiss, he tasted like cheap whiskey. He kissed Harry hard – lips and tongues and teeth, biting down on his bottom lip. It was hard enough to bruise, and Harry arched his back, leaning into it.   
  
"More," he said, when Severus had moved away and there was air enough to breathe and think and speak. "More."  
  
"Do you want it?"   
  
Harry nodded, biting his lower lip – biting the skin that Severus had bitten. He wanted it.   
  
Severus splashed cold whiskey onto Harry's skin, wiping his nipple clean with a soft cloth. He twisted it between his fingers, hard enough to hurt. Harry bit down on his lip again, waiting. He wanted this.  
  
The needle was hot again when it touched his skin. Harry scrunched his eyes shut under the blindfold – the needle wasn't the colour of Ginny's hair. It wasn't. He didn't want to see it.  
  
"You'll go home to her, wearing this. You'll go back to her, marked as mine."  
  
He felt Severus's deft fingers threading the needle through his nipple. It hurt – the world was dizzy again, spinning around Harry – he needed this, he needed it, he needed Severus. The cold metal ring followed the needle and then the world was stable and Harry arched up into Severus's touch. "More – I need–"  
  
"Hush. Always so impatient." Severus pressed his lips to Harry's nipple, warming the cold metal, and then he moved down Harry's body, lapping up the whiskey. He slipped the plug out of Harry's arse, sliding into him before he could beg.   
  
"You're mine. Always."  
  
Severus used slow, steady strokes – filling Harry where he was empty – fucking him – marking him. The bed shook, the low wooden frame hitting the wall. The sound echoed through the room, and Harry reached for Severus, grasping his shoulders and holding onto him.  
  
The warmth in the room came from Severus's chest against his own, and Harry's pierced nipple was pressed between them. Each thrust that Severus took sent a new stroke of pain through Harry – but he was the only warmth, and Harry clung to him. Needed him.  
  
The pain made the darkness turn blood-red, flame-red. "Please–"  
  
He needed more. Needed Severus. Harry's blood beat through his veins, hot and fast – his heartbeat echoed loud enough to hear – he couldn't see Severus – he needed – he wanted – scars and more, skin and bone, he needed more –  
  
"Come for me." Severus spoke in Harry's ear, his hand on Harry's cock, his voice low and husky. "Come now."  
  
Harry came, his body arching under Severus, the world spinning around them again. Spinning and unstable, scarred and perfect. He took quick deep breaths, steadying himself, holding onto Severus.   
  
The blindfold was unwound and Harry blinked, the red and the darkness gone. Severus was looking down at Harry, his face severe even in the candlelight, even in the shadows. The darkness deepened every line, and the candlelight heightened every wrinkle and every flaw. Simple and severe, nothing more. His throat moved as he swallowed, and Harry reached up to trace the lines of his scars.  
  
Severus didn't move when Harry touched him – he held himself perfectly still, his black brows drawn together and his eyes gleaming as he looked down at Harry. His skin was rough to the touch, almost ragged.   
  
Harry propped himself up on his elbows, reaching up to kiss each scar. He kissed the hollow at the base of Severus's throat and worked his way up until he kissed Severus full on the lips.   
  
Severus kissed him back and then pulled away, levering himself up over Harry and standing, pulling on his trousers. He was all long lines and shadows in the darkness, a figure half-hidden and half-gone. Harry reached for him, but Severus pushed him back down on the bed, one finger touching the ring in his nipple.  
  
"Any pain?"  
  
"Some," Harry said, covering Severus's hand with his own. He held it there over his nipple until Severus pulled away.   
  
"It will take some time to heal," he said, turning his back on Harry. He pulled on his shirt and began to button it, his elbows sticking out at right angles to his body, storklike. "If you use a Glamour to hide it, remember to check it daily. If you see a discreet healer, they'll be able to remove–"  
  
Harry came up behind Severus and slipped his arms around him. He reached up, touching Severus's nipples. "We could do yours, next time," he said. "If you wanted to–"  
  
"Why?"  
  
Severus's hand held Harry's hand there, over his beating heart. Harry kissed him twice – once on each of the shoulder blades that protruded from his back like sharp wings – and stepped back, shivering and pulling his own clothes on.  
  
"So you'll think of me when I'm not here." When he was with Ginny. It hung between them, stark and heavy, and Severus took a step back.  
  
"I think of you," he said. He indicated the room with a sweeping gesture – the sagging bed, the table and chair, the stack of dog-eared books – the hideaway that Dumbledore had left safe for him. A prison, and nothing more. "I've not much else to think of, here."  
  
Harry stepped forward for a kiss and was not rebuffed. "I'll bring you more books, next time."  
  
"More tea," Severus said. "And some fresh fruit. The inexhaustible supply of bread grows dull."  
  
"Of course," Harry said, halfway out the door. Shopping lists, daily needs … it was everything and nothing like Harry's life with Ginny.   
  
Severus came after him, pinned him against the door frame and kissed him soundly. "She'll know," he said, his hands on Harry's collarbones.   
  
"She knows. Ever since I found you … I think she knows." It wasn't something that was said – like the truths unspoken between Harry and Severus. No good came from saying some things. Harry held Severus for a moment, not telling him that he was going back to Ginny, not telling him that he would sleep in her bed tonight. He held Severus for a moment, and then kissed him and let him go.   
  
As he went down the narrow stairway, Harry didn't look back to see if Severus was watching him leave. He touched his nipple, fingering the metal ring. It hurt, even through the soft cloth of his shirt. It was nothing like life with Ginny.


End file.
